


More Beast Than Woman

by Kiwi_the_Kylee



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwi_the_Kylee/pseuds/Kiwi_the_Kylee
Summary: Night Barton is a product of vengeance, created by the mad scientist her father had become after her mother's death. Her powers of transformation turning her into a force to be reckoned with and a formidable opponent to those who trespass on her territory of earth, despite her downfalls and the distaste of those she dedicates her life to protect. She's became well known on planet Vegeta and such comes with risks: namely, being captured.
Relationships: Trunks Briefs/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	More Beast Than Woman

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - I figure I might a well post this. It’s something I wrote a long time ago and have been working on rewriting it. It was my first fanfiction (from around 2012). Au where Planet Vegeta was never destroyed. There’s a lot of au here to be honest.
> 
> Warnings: Animal death, mentions of death, saiyan death, blood, violence, I also have no issue with describing the nastier part of wounds so that warning will go throughout the story.

×

Bare feet dug into the dirt below them, heels raised as their owner crouched behind a bush, prepared to attack any animal that happened to cross her path, that was, if they were worth the effort. Well-trained eyes scanned each and every movement—birds in the trees, an occasional squirrel, the leaves blown by the wind—no prey, at least, none large enough to satiate her hunger.

The feeling of mud rising between her toes resulted in her shifting, the soft sound startling a rabbit from the nearby bushes.

In a flash, she was after it, her body shifting to that of a wolf, paws pounding against the ground as she quickly caught up to the rabbit and snatched it in her jaws, bones cracking under the force placed upon them. She dropped it before returning to her human form, unwilling to stoop to having raw meat inside her mouth while in her true form. She lifted the body by it’s back legs, grateful she’d been able to make this a quick and clean kill, they were always worse when the first bite wasn’t a killing blow, and began the walk back to her shelter.

×

The rabbit was far from the first thing she had cooked, but she still had a habit of burning herself in the fire. Cooking wasn’t something that she had had ingrained into her and she was far from good at it.

Fortunately, it wasn’t as if she had anyone to impress with her nonexistent cooking skill.

She bit into the meat soon after the sun began to disappear behind the thick trees of her home, under-cooked, as always. Being two-parts carnivore gave her a vastly different palate than what was normal to humans.

As she ate, she leaned back against a tree, eyes watching the stars. She always preferred being outdoors, at least, when it came to her house. There were too many unsavory memories, but she couldn’t leave on account of her reputation. Humans that appreciated what she did were few and far between, and she didn’t care to chance trusting them.

Not after the last time.

She was sold out for the promise of getting her off of the planet. Though, the promise was not met as she refused the offer of the group, having no interest in joining an army.

They tried to force her, but fangs and claws have a way with convincing people to cut their losses. Especially when the owner of the fangs and claws manages to pitch said people’s leader off of a ledge to her death.

Her eyes switched habitually to those of her feline form, instantly heightening her sense of sight. With a sigh, she hit her head lightly against the tree in an attempt to clear the dark thoughts from her mind.

Just as she felt the pull of sleep starting to encase her mind, a streak flew across the sky.

It took hardly a moment for her to gain focus, pulling on her boots and grabbing her nearby knives, prepared to end whatever plans these visitors had before they’d even begun. She knew exactly what that streak was. Why they were here confused her, a raid had just recently occurred in South America and, with no one there to oppose them, they certainly didn’t leave with a shortage of captors. Surely, they wouldn’t be back on a raid for a month at least.

Her boots pounded against the ground as she followed the line left by the streak, only slowing to a walk when she was approaching the landing point.

Crouching down, she slowly made her way to the bushes just outside of the clearing they had made, peeking through the leaves and taking in the specifics of this invasion.

Five people at least, certainly some still on board. Eight at least, maybe more, though it was impossible to tell.

The spacecraft was large, smaller than what they used to carry away slaves when they came on a raid, but still larger than the one or two person ships that would occasionally land in towns for personal reasons—incredible some could overlook what their race had done for _love_. On the side of the ship, the Royal insignia was proudly encrusted, bright red and large; this wasn’t a slave ship, not at all.

A harsh huff came from between her clenched teeth. They were here for her. That was the only explanation for a ship made to carry elites arriving in her forest of all places.

If they wanted her, she’d give them exactly that.

×

She waited until one paused in front of her hiding spot, searching each and every one of them in her sight for weaknesses.

One had a weak right ankle, it gave out when he put too much weight on it. One of the two females was blind in one eye, the other had a weak left wrist, so the right would be her focus. The largest man was ridiculously muscular, unable to watch his back.

He was the patrol.

As he wandered into her vicinity, she launched herself at him, clutching onto his shoulder and pinning his arms with her legs before burying a dagger in his neck and pulling back, splattering blood over her shirt as she sliced through his jugular vein.

She landed on her feet, one foot on the dead saiyan’s back, and a cocky smirk on her scarred face, “Someone looking for me?”

As the others came at her she batted them away with all the elegance of the feline she could transform into, before releasing her claws and making her way up into a tree. She transformed effortlessly, her tight clothes meshing with her golden body.

When she dropped down, massive paws crushed the skull of one of the men into the soft dirt below, knocking him out cold. With a loud roar, too fantastic to be anything other than her flaunting the power even her vocal cords possessed, she jumped at the other men, claws ready to slice into them.

And then it happened.

A piercing pain exploded on her side with a loud, _crack!_ Electricity enough to easily kill a human flowed through her body, resulting in convulsions and roars of pain bleeding from her throat, that steadily turned to cries as she reverted to her true form.

One of the men lifted her carelessly and tossed her into the small open door of the side of their ship.

“Hope you enjoy it!” One of the men shouted before slamming the door shut, “King Vegeta had it designed especially for you.”

×

The sound of her fists slamming against the metallic door rang out in the room she was trapped in, resonating in her ears and reminding her exactly how bad her situation was.

Truthfully, she had to admit that she’d brought this on herself for the most part. She could have left the situation as it was and let the saiyans go on with their actions with no defiance, but she couldn’t ignore the humans—she _had_ to be born with a desire to help others. She couldn’t keep her abilities to herself, not with a clear conscience, even though she knew the danger that came from taking on the saiyans completely alone.

Night Barton had adopted the alias of Nightclaw, the creature that came from the woods the nights of the raids and used her powerful claws to slay as many saiyans as she could, soon after she’d frenzied the first raid. They knew no human could have killed them as she did, but they didn’t dare enter her hunting grounds.

They didn’t dare do anything without being ordered too and Night had her suspicions that Vegeta hadn’t ordered them to hunt her down immediately because he found her amusing. 

She’d always considered herself a test subject with a slightly larger brain than most Guinea pigs—that would surely get a laugh if she ever had someone to share it with—but she had learned to live with being a science project quickly.

At least she was a successful science project.

Her father was a mad scientist—or so she called him—he searched for a cure for the nameless disease she had been born with ceaselessly, but in the process his own spite influenced the search for a cure into a search for a weapon. He spliced her DNA with that of a wolf and a tiger, the power of which was insignificant in light of their enemies, but he somehow saw it as enough.

And, somehow, it had been.

Her father had no chance to see his creation or even know if she survived as he, and the entirety of the town they were in, was wiped out, leaving her the sole survivor of one of the first raids upon earth.

She had to learn the extent of her powers on her own, wasting weeks trying to decipher the rambling scribbles her father had left behind, declaring his hatred for saiyans.

At least there was one thing she agreed with him on.

The most obvious power she had gained was the heightening of her senses, particularly her sense of smell and hearing. Along with her ability to transform, came the ability to change parts of her body to those of an animal’s at will, namely, her nails and teeth could turn to claws and fangs.

She took to protecting humans after learning of all the pain their slave trade and murderous tendencies had caused. Even as she learned that most viewed her only as a freak of nature who brought the wrath of the saiyans down upon them even harder, she continued to save all she could.

She had killed countless numbers of those who came to collect slaves and practically all who had came to collect her. 

And now, it had finally caught up with her.

Finally, Night gave up on the door, but not without bruising and bloodying her knuckles and leaving claw marks in the metal.

_At least they won’t forget who I am._

A smirk lifted the corner of her lips as she studied the deep rivets.

She always had left gouges in both things that held her and things that belonged to her.

She let herself slide down the wall by the door, a sigh leaving her lips as she crossed her legs and rested her chin in her hand.

Night had no doubt in her mind that King Vegeta would order her killed; she had seen and heard enough to know that he was ruthless and she had been a thorn in his side for far too long. She could envision herself being broken and brainwashed as well, thrown onto the front lines of his army to deal with the pests that came at them from time to time. What could be worse than fighting for the very race she had fought against for so long?

_He’ll be sorely disappointed if he tries to break me._

With that thought, she allowed herself to zone out, right on the edge of falling from consciousness to sleep.

×

When the ship collided with the ground, she was jerked from her trance and quickly on her feet.

The moment the door in front of her opened, she aimed to flee and blend in with the crowd she was sure would be around. She might not have the muscles of a saiyan, but she doubted they were all so ripped, her main concern was her hair. It was dark enough to appear black under some colors, but the natural light might just give her away.

There was no time to reconsider as the door cracked open.

She slammed into the door full-force, making it fly open and throwing the saiyan behind it off of the ramp and to the ground.

Had that really been such a surprising action?

The pain that exploded on her side gave a fair case as to _why_ that reaction might have been a surprise. But she’d dealt with pain before and she would deal with this.

As she flew through the opening, another man grabbed her arm, and she spun, nails turning to razor sharp claws as she dug them into his neck, not releasing him until she felt the warm sensation of blood running down her skin.

In the same moment she released him, she jumped from the ramp, just missing the saiyan that had made his way back up. She dropped into a roll to soften the blow on her ankles before sprinting into the midst of a nearby crowd.

×

She ran through the crowd at full speed, pushing people aside if they blocked her way. She didn’t stop until she was sent to the ground, disoriented and terrified, with breaths coming through clenched teeth as she held her hand over the charred flesh of where the overpowered cattle-prod had been jammed.

She raised her eyes to meet those of a lavender-haired man who was leaning against a building, her nails digging into the skin around her wound in an attempt to alleviate pain.

“You might want to slow down, might cause trouble if you run into the wrong person.” As he motioned to the people milling around them, not giving either of them more than a passing glance, she struggled to keep her eyes on him, desperately fighting against the guilt and fear that made her want to turn away.

“Y-yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” She stuttered before trying to re-mask her fear. She got to her feet, giving her a moment’s respite from his stare, before sighing silently and returning her eyes to his face.

If he was more in the open, she was sure he would receive more than just a few glances. His hair and eyes contradicted the normal saiyan features greatly, making her wonder if he was half human, or half another species. One thing was for certain, he had a saiyan’s body.

It wasn’t unheard of. In the time since Freiza was overthrown, saiyans had easily made their mark as a powerful military force in all areas of the universe, and with forces in all area of the universe came more than a few examples of half-bloods, and more recently, even those with less than half.

“What were you running from anyway?” He raised a brow as he asked, something in his eyes seeming to dare her to lie.

Panic swelled in her chest, but she did well in keeping it hidden.

She answered as quickly as she could manage in an attempt to quell his suspicion. “I was being chased by some kind of beast,” the veiled insult passed her lips smoothly, her charisma finally seeming to take hold as she bit back her fear. She was surrounded by her greatest enemies, but, for now, only she was privy to that fact.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”

Finally, she looked away, eyes looking to the ground as she nervously shuffled her feet. “T-that’s ridiculous! Where else could I be from?” She forced a laugh as the muscles in her legs tightened, preparing to dart at a moment’s notice.

Her _clothes_. How had she forgotten her _clothes_?

He gave her a look that made clear he wasn’t being fooled.

She took a step back, “I-um…” words evaded her as her eyes darted around in search of an escape route.

“So I’m guessing I’m right.” He looked down at her, his form easily dwarfing her own, with a smirk on his face, though not quite as infuriating or threatening as the ones she was used to receiving.

“Hey!” The shout caught the attention of all in earshot, “Grab her!” She caught sight of familiar faces forcing their way through the crowd, dead-set on her.

“Looks like I’ve gotta run!” She darted off, momentarily debating transforming, but quickly discarding the thought.

×

In the end, it wouldn’t have mattered, she knew nothing of the lay of this land and was bound to find herself cornered eventually. She didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps before pain exploded on the back of her head, sending her to the ground.

She attempted to push herself up, but a boot landed between her shoulder blades, effectively pinning her. 

Through the throbbing in her head, she could hear the voice of the man she’d run into as well as one of the elite soldier’s.

“Pretty impressive if she’s able to slip out of an Elite’s grasp.” She could imagine he had caught sight of the blood on the man’s neck, and felt her chest swell with pride, even though she’d been overtaken, she had managed to make a fool of an Elite.

“She has killed many of our men, Prince.”

She was surprised that he was the prince, but it made an overwhelming amount of sense—half human.

“So you’re the legendary Nightclaw? You look nothing like I suspected,” he paused, “for the record, that’s a compliment.” She scoffed through her pain and he chuckled under his breath, “Your personality is certainly what I suspected.”

“She may look harmless enough, but she is dangerous.” She sent the prince a smirk, though her eyes were still blurry from the attack.

They must know what they’re doing.

“My father will either kill her or make her a slave, neither of which are good outcomes.” He was speaking to himself, and, even with her senses, she could only just hear him.

She could feel the tears beginning to build behind her eyes as the situation hit her full-force. She was either going to die, or become a slave—the very thing she had dedicated her life to protect humans from becoming—there was no in-between and no way for her to escape.

She began to make a half-hearted attempt to move, but the weight behind the boot increased, enough to make it hard to breath.

“Where are you taking her?”

“Your father ordered us to bring her to the palace immediately.”

“Then I guess we’ll be meeting again.”

×

Hours had passed by the time she was shoved through the elaborate doors that led to the throne room. Still, she had been given no warning as to prepare her speech of resistance, so she settled for letting a glare pierce through anyone her eyes landed on.

Four thrones sat against the farthest wall. The prince sat in the throne to the right, looking quite a bit more threatening than previous with a scowl painted across his face, Vegeta sat in the throne next to his son. The other’s sat empty.

She had to wonder if Vegeta had the gall to offer one of those thrones to the pure-blooded human mother of his children while the rest of her race faced enslavement.

A glare didn’t quite do it when her eyes landed on Vegeta’s form. Before she knew it, an animalistic growl tore from her throat and she was puffing herself up, obeying every predatory instinct she had adopted from her canine and feline counter-parts.

Her sense of reason and instinct began to war against each other, her instinct wanting nothing more than for her to tear into his flesh as she had so many others, she had no quarrel with this, but her reason reminded her how dangerous attacking Vegeta was.

Who said she wasn’t going to die either way?

She felt her predatory urges overtake her, transforming into a wolf and darting at the king.

She jumped, aiming to sink her teeth into his throat, but, before she could get close enough to even graze him, she was rammed in the side.

As she slid, she fought to hide the pain that blossomed from the charred hole in her side once again, feeling a liquid begin to drip from it and connect with her fur. Blood was a reasonable assumption, but the fact that the wound had been cauterized in the same moment it was created, lead her to believe it was something else.

That was going to be ugly if she ever got to get a look at it.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the pain before getting to her feet—paws—and trying to figure out what had happened.

A quick glance at the thrones answered her question easily, as he was the only one standing. The prince had rammed her in the side.

She returned to her human form, struggling to ignore the pain in her side. The chance of her losing it again—willingly or otherwise—was still there, but she was sobered for now, her wound forcing her to be somewhat complacent.

“Well, what are you planning on doing with me, since you clearly can’t do your own dirty work.” She huffed, giving the prince a glare.

He didn’t reply to her, seeming to think it over before addressing the prince, “Boy,” he appeared to be daydreaming from the way he jumped when addressed, “what should we do with this freak of nature?”

“Rude.” She knew no one heard the comment, but she was unable to bite it back all the same.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” When he glanced at her, she ‘humph'ed and stuck her nose in the air, earning an amused scoff that was only audible because of her heightened sense of hearing.

“Keeping you alive can lead to nothing but trouble,” he mused, “so there really is no other option.”

Even as the fear magnified in her chest, she refused to show it. If she was going to die, she was going to do it without begging and crying.

Vegeta formed a blast in his hand and Night met his eyes, her own steely and determined. She had prepared for the pain, hoping only that it would end quickly, but the prince’s voice beat it to the punch.

“Father,” the blast in Vegeta’s hand died down as he glanced as his son, “now that I think of it, I could use a sparring partner. She’d be as good a slave as any.”

Night’s eyes narrowed and she let out a growl, taking a step toward him, “I’d rather die than be a slave to any of you half-evolved primates!” Her teeth changed without her prompting as her instincts threatened to take control of her sanity.

“Shut up!” He growled back, staring her down.

She felt both her animal sides, figuratively of course, tuck their tails between their legs and confusion overtook her. In a pack of wolves, she would be best described as an alpha and—though tigers are solitary animals—her tiger had never shown fear, yet, now, they both backed down, over two words.

“Really? Why would you want her as a slave?”

The question caught her attention, even through her internal debate.

“She’s got to take a punch better than any of the human slaves.”

Her widened eyes narrowed once again, _I’ll kill you in your sleep._

“Fine then. Guards, take her to his room.” With that, two guards approached her and began to drag her down a hall.


End file.
